Together, they walked toward the door. With a gentle creak, it swung open, and both of them stepped into the living room, where Kingsley was still seated, as though waiting for them. His head turned toward their direction as he spoke, "For a moment, I thought your utopia-like relationship was coming to an end."

Anthony and Vega simply laughed, unsurprised that Kingsley had overheard them. "Vega just likes to play a lot," Anthony replied casually.

Kingsley smirked. "It would be amusing to see you die from a heart attack like a normal person," he laughed, rising from his seat.

The trio proceeded toward the outer door. Anthony's hand brushed against it, channeling a thread of mana into the lock. With a faint click, the door unlocked. Each outer door was programmed to recognize only three mana signatures, the number allotted for each younger generation team.

Stepping into the long hallway, they wandered without any particular direction, letting curiosity guide them. Along the way, they encountered beings of various races, some of whom neither Anthony, Vega, nor Kingsley had ever seen before. Some leaned casually against the walls, engaged in quiet conversation, their eyes glittering with pride or amusement.

Soon, the trio reached what appeared to be a central lobby. A crowd of people gathered there, their presence vibrant and energetic. A bar stood in one corner, with a bartender serving drinks freely, an assortment of colorful concoctions lining the shelves behind him.

Anthony immediately recognized some of the top-tier members from the younger generation. Their arrogance radiated visibly, their posture and expressions proclaiming superiority. Anthony, however, paid them no attention. He strode calmly toward the bar, Kingsley and Vega following his lead.

"I'll have the harshest and most expensive drink you have," Anthony ordered, sliding into a seat. Kingsley and Vega opted for lighter, softer beverages. As they waited, a voice called from behind Anthony.

"Hey, Anthony."

He did not need to turn to identify the speaker. His instincts, honed through numerous battles, along with his Sense Dome, already signaled the person's presence within the lobby and his approach.

Turning, Anthony met the glowing violet eyes of the man standing before him.

Kaelith Orion, of the Aetherian race.

He and Anthony had fought during the Starborn Tournament. Orion had battled Anthony before Anthony's battle of summons with Charles. In that tournament, Orion had not lost a single battle, except to Anthony. Anthony still remembered the Aetherians' formidable ability: they could warp reality within a certain radius, reshaping energy and matter as they pleased.

A powerful ability, one that could overwhelm nearly anyone, but still, it had been insufficient against Anthony.

"It's been a while," Anthony said, extending his hand. Orion reciprocated with a nod, his expression calm and unreadable. Orion's translucent skin and silver hair, the hallmark physical traits of his race, remained flawless, seemingly untouched by time.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Anthony asked, breaking the silence. Though he spoke politely, he was not one to offer assistance out of obligation. If Orion truly needed help, Anthony would have considered it, but he had no patience for trivial favors.

"I just wanted to inform you that next time… I won't lose," Orion stated simply. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, his steps measured and composed. His tone bore neither arrogance nor unnecessary pride; it was merely matter of fact... a wrong fact.

Anthony had long understood Orion's nature. The man was not one for idle conversation. He fought decisively and spoke only when necessary. Indeed, throughout the entire Starborn Tournament, he had barely uttered a single word to anyone.

Anthony watched him for a moment, then shook his head. He lived by one immutable truth: once someone had lost to him, even once, they had lost forever. Victory and defeat were immutable, and Orion's confidence in a rematch would not alter that.

His sky-blue eyes shifted toward two other Aetherians who had accompanied Orion. Their violet eyes scanned Anthony, curiosity and pride clashing within them. They seemed unsettled by the casual handshake Orion had offered Anthony, perhaps wondering why their champion had acknowledged someone who was a mere human, a human who was merely handsome and nothing more.

'They weren't at the Starborn Tournament,' Anthony noted silently, turning his gaze away from the group.

"A friend?" Vega asked, curiosity lacing her voice.

"A defeated opponent," Anthony replied flatly, his words matter of fact. Vega nodded in understanding, her expression showing neither surprise nor judgment.

"He seems strong," Kingsley remarked, his golden eyes following Orion, who now sat quietly, eyes closed and legs crossed.

"He is… his race possesses the ability to warp reality at will," Anthony explained. His words prompted Kingsley to whistle softly. "I can only imagine how dangerous he would be if he reached the Planetary level," Kingsley added.

"He's almost there," Anthony said calmly, setting down his glass. "That's why he's confident about a rematch. He must have acquired some extraordinary inheritance or training, enough to advance multiple mana ranks in just under three years."

Kingsley and Vega nodded in acknowledgment. Although reality-warping was a formidable ability, they both understood that even a fully trained Aetherian would still face tremendous challenges against them at their own level.

Nearby, Anthony noticed a spatial dome, and within it, a Voidwalker could be seen torturing a Vampire. Blood trickled from the Vampire's mouth, yet he dared not activate his regenerative abilities.

"Your kind isn't meant to exist, sucking blood as though you were mere mosquitoes," the Voidwalker said, pulling a fang from the Vampire's mouth. Blood spattered outward.

Normally, vampires possessed passive regeneration, but at a certain level, they could consciously suppress this innate healing. The Vampire, weaker than the Voidwalker, had no choice but to endure.

"Perhaps when you've lost every tooth, you'll reconsider," the Voidwalker continued, pulling each one slowly. It was not the physical pain but the humiliation, the affront to pride, that tormented the Vampire. Yet he could do nothing; his entire race was inferior.

"When we reach our level, we no longer require sustenance. We eat and drink only for pleasure, not necessity. Your race, even now, still relies on blood. If permitted to evolve further, you might drain the galaxy dry," the Voidwalker said, disdain dripping from her words.

Anthony observed silently. Though the Voidwalker concealed her actions through spatial manipulation, her efforts were futile against Anthony's All Seeing Eyes.

"Everyone seems energetic," Anthony remarked, his gaze sweeping the scene.

Vega's eyes followed his line of sight, her own Eyes of the Universe piercing the spatial dome. She saw the scene in full, yet she did not intervene. It had nothing to do with her. Instead, she would rather spend her efforts saving those who truly required help, children starving, beings suffering.

"It seems so," she replied, her tone calm and impassive, betraying no hint of judgment or distraction.

_______

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Super gift?

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